


all pressed up in black and white

by invertedrainbow



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: M/M, Shower Sex, blindfolds and all that shit, blowjobs in limosines, this thing is kinky as fuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-31
Packaged: 2018-01-17 13:49:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1390027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/invertedrainbow/pseuds/invertedrainbow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Burnie holds out the glass for Joel to pour some from the bottle he is now drinking from, saying something about ”classing it up” and “a drink worthy of a 5-star treatment”, but when Joel tips the bottle to the glass’ mouth, the limousine makes a sharp turn and he ends up pouring some on himself instead, and Burnie’s laugh erupts loud and clear. Joel lets out a growl and tries to salvage his pants.</p>
<p>“Let me,” Burnie says, and was that mischief on his tone? “Driver, partition up, please.” The driver indulges.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. fixed up to the nines

The limousine is dimly lighted, just the way Burnie wants it, because the excessive lights made his head turn. The world is spinning in his view and maybe he is, too, and he ends up resting his cheek on Joel’s left leg. He groans out loud.

“Are we there yet?”

“Not quite,” Joel supplies. On his hand rests a flute of champagne that he found on some hidden compartment, and Burnie sits up very slowly to take a sip. Joel tips the glass on Burnie’s favor, and he drinks almost greedily, to which Joel scoffs.

“What? The only way to battle a drunkard is through alcohol,” Burnie grins with utmost intent to make a fool of himself, because the alcohol fumes are reaching his brain and he is well aware of the fact. Not that he’s doing anything about it. “Hit me.”

“This is my glass,” Joel rolls his eyes and attempts to pry the glass off of Burnie’s hands, but he won’t budge. “Fucker.”

Burnie sticks out his tongue and Joel thinks,  _how typical._

The thing is, Burnie isn’t drunk enough to reach the “Drunk Burnie” stage. Those traitor drinks are strong enough to make him slur, though, and coherent as he is in his thoughts, his oral skills fail to deliver.

Burnie holds out the glass for Joel to pour some from the bottle he is now drinking from, saying something about ”classing it up” and “a drink worthy of a 5-star treatment”, but when Joel tips the bottle to the glass’ mouth, the limousine makes a sharp turn and he ends up pouring some on himself instead, and Burnie’s laugh erupts loud and clear. Joel lets out a growl and tries to salvage his pants.

“Let me,” Burnie says, and was that mischief on his tone? “Driver, partition up, please.” The driver indulges.

Burnie slides off the leather upholstery and down his knees, inching between Joel’s splayed legs. The champagne landed near Joel’s crotch area and Burnie wastes no time on fishing his handkerchief and starts patting it dry. Joel watches him with his half-lidded eyes, unsure what else to do.

His pats start off gentle, and for a fleeting moment, Joel actually thinks Burnie is trying to help, until Burnie starts to  _paw_  it dry, and it’s doing more damage than how it originally was. Joel is trying to concentrate on other things other than the fact that Burnie’s hand is near his crotch, and it feels  _good_  but not  _good enough_  because Burnie isn’t exactly giving him a damn handjob, but with the way Burnie is on his knees and flushed like he ran five miles, he might as well have been.

But Joel does try to focus on other things: the stitches on the leather upholstery, counting them until his eyes are strained and he couldn’t see them anymore. The neon lights outside are enough of a distraction, so he rests his elbow on the armrest of the door and covers his mouth, in case any unwanted noise comes out.

If Burnie is playing this game with him, he most definitely isn’t gonna let him have all the fun in one go. Where’s the excitement in that?

He judges it is around 1 in the morning, which is impressively early for them. Age is such a bitch sometimes, he would argue.

He is doing well with the whole “ignore Burnie” thing, until he isn’t, because if Burnie is something, he is a goddamned show-off. Attention is what he is born to get, and with the way he is patting the insides of his legs dry (completely irrelevant, by the way; the champagne poured near his pockets and that is  _nowhere near his pockets_ ), he is getting Joel’s full attention now.

Burnie shoots him a sly smile, that all-knowing stare and the cruel curl of his lips that speaks in extreme volumes, and Joel knows he lost.

Fate is in Burnie’s side, too. The damn bastard.

The limousine makes another sharp turn and Burnie’s face lands straight on his crotch, to which he reacts very blatantly. He curses the world, mostly, but he could feel Burnie’s lips curl up to a smirk against the fabric, and he starts sucking and humming, and  _god_  if that didn’t feel good, Joel isn’t sure what is.

“Burnie,” he breathes out menacingly, and Burnie answers with his fingers tugging Joel’s belt, teasingly slow.

“Can I?” Burnie even dares ask, and Joel answers with a growl. “I wonder how often you thought about this…”

His voice trails off dangerously low, sending shivers down Joel’s spine. He shouldn’t be reacting this way but any form of friction Burnie is eliciting feels divine, and Joel needs  _anything_ , just to ease the want bubbling in his chest.

Burnie continues. “I’m on my knees, Joel. How… familiar.”

Well, it takes two to tango.

Joel pats his lap and motions for Burnie to come closer, and once Burnie is resting against the space between Joel’s legs, his hands clamps him down on the spot, rocking their hips together just to make Burnie take a taste of his own medicine.

“If you wanted me to fuck you, you should’ve just asked, Burns,” Joel whispers against Burnie’s neck, sucking on a pulse point, knowing it will bruise for everyone to see. “This elaborate plan is so  _like_  you, though. I can’t help but be proud of all the attention to detail.” Burnie is squirming now, wanting to get anything from him but with the way Joel is holding him down, he doubts if he’ll make this easy for him. “I suggest you get down on your knees again and do what you do best, since you’re eager to get a fucking treat.”

Down he goes, slipping off Joel’s lap ungraciously and continuing on where he left off, his nimble fingers tugging and dislodging it from the hook. Once loose, he zips him off and Joel lets out a small groan when skin on skin contact is made. It takes a few tugs to get it fully erect, and while it rests against Joel’s belly, Burnie pulls off his pants for him, pressing soft kisses from his legs to his balls. Joel hisses throughout the contact, resisting the urge to run his fingers through Burnie’s curly locks.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Joel grits out when Burnie smears the precome forming on the base with his thumb, sucking onto it gently. He replaces his thumb soon with Joel’s cock, taking it in whole, humming against it softly. Joel is a mess with the way he bit onto his own pinky to stop any form of noise, but when Burnie releases his cock with a ‘pop’ and pumps onto it a few times, he thought he is gonna go insane.

“Oh, but do tell me how I’m doing, Joel.”

Joel answers with a thrust on his mouth and a smirk. “Less talk,” He tells Burnie, who hums in reply. “God,  _your mouth_.” His hand forks through Burnie’s hair and tugs, earning an interesting response from the other: he moans against Joel’s cock, making Joel thrust softly. He would apologize if it caused harm, but Burnie is taking it so well, going up and down with ease. “Let me throw back your question: how long have you wanted this, Burnie?” There is a surge of raw energy coming from somewhere in Joel’s system and he uses it as adrenaline, his voice dipping levels he never thought he could reach. He is calm through Burnie’s whimpering, strangely enough, even if he does want to fuck his mouth raw. “You want me to come on your pretty little face?”

It is interesting, how Burnie trembled at that. Joel grins.

“So  _that’s_  what you’re into, huh?”

Burnie releases him for a short while to moan out, “ _oh please, god, Joel_ ” and Joel isn’t  _that_ heartless to ignore his wishes. It doesn’t take long before Burnie’s rhythm is matched by Joel’s thrusting, and the thing that sends him off the edge is when Burnie sucks his balls, alternating from one to the other, and with the way his chest heaved and the way he trembled against Burnie’s mouth, he knows he’s close.

It takes a few more bobbing and thrusting to have Joel babble “ _oh god, Burnie, fuck”_ like a mantra, his come streaks on Burnie’s face, and Joel smiles when Burnie groans at his own discomfort, his erection forming a tent on his pants, and as he cleaned Joel off, Joel swipe the come off his face and have Burnie suck on his digits.

“Wouldn’t want it to go to waste,” Joel mumbles, pulling Burnie on his lap again. “We’re almost there,” He adds absentmindedly, noticing the stains on his pants. He groans. He takes notice on the same stain on Burnie’s suit, to which he grins proudly. “Satisfied?”

“Very,” Burnie answers, smelling distinctly of sweat and sex, which Joel believes isn’t enough. He presses a lazy kiss on Joel’s lips and sighs when Joel kneads on his ass, his hands warm and huge. “At least tell me you’ll do something about this,” he points at his erection, and Joel laughs.

“I dunno man, I’m getting pretty sleepy,” Joel fakes a yawn, and as an answer, Burnie towers over him to nibble on his lower lip, kissing Joel that is meant to turn him on, with the way he’s leading him closer with his hand behind his neck, and the way he’s sucking down to his chest as he loosened Joel’s tie.

“If you think my mouth is glorious,” Burnie hisses on his ear, his ass strategically positioned to Joel’s growing erection. “You have to fuck this to know what you’re missing.”

Burnie slips off his coat and hides the stains with it as he steps off the limo, looking back with a wink. “See you in the room,” he says with a coy grin, and Joel wants nothing but to wipe that grin off his face.

 _Gag him, maybe?_ , he contemplates once he steps in the hotel.


	2. for the world that is ours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Burnie proves that Joel is all bark and all bite, and Joel doesn't even have the energy to stop him.
> 
> Not that he wants to, really.

When Joel enters the hotel room, the lights on the minibar are open, and that’s the only light source in room, other than the light from the bathroom. There is a lone glass on the counter beside the open bottle of scotch, He hears the shower running and knows that it’s Burnie, from the silent hum of that familiar song — is that from that Stand Alone short? He snorts at the memory of the shoot: Geoff’s acting skills are amazing and how he managed to make the real Gus cringe is worth the whole day shoot.

That’s probably what he likes the most about the company. Work is play time.

Which reminds him, he is actually getting paid for this trip.

The bed shifts when he sits on its edge, dipping on its weight. He listens to Burnie’s humming until it trails off, and he is falling asleep, until he hears Burnie moan. The bastard isn’t even subtle about it, it is conspicuous and just teasing, so he smirks to himself, strips down and walks in the shower, where Burnie’s arm is braced against the wall, his hand pumping his cock in long and even strokes.

Burnie looks at him with a lazy smile, pulling him in a heated kiss, his pupils dilated when they part. A familiar warmth envelops Joel, starting on his toes to his head, but he bears no mind about it. His fingers are sliding up from Burnie’s legs up his waist, then pushing him against the tiled surface, the other letting out a small groan upon contact. The tiles are cool against his palms when he turns Burnie to face the wall and pushes him in place, his hard-on straight on the cleft of Burnie’s ass.

"Joel, come on," Burnie whines, bucking his ass back.

There are a few things Joel is exceptionally good at. One, first and foremost, is acting, and he is confident at that. Two, he is good at being an asshole to everyone, because life is too short to be nice, especially at work. Third and lastly, he is good at teasing, and he prides himself of that.

When he kneels down, his hands parting Burnie’s butt cheeks to rim him open, Burnie almost jumps out of his skin in surprise, squirming at the unfamiliar contact of tongue on his hole. But with the way Joel is kneading on his perineum when Burnie bucks his ass outward, he turns into a wanton mess.

It takes Joel enough time to get Burnie pleading, promising him so many things, only if Joel fucks him to the ground and makes him limp for days. (An exciting offer, Joel has to admit, but not enough. He is a very fussy person, and he demands the ultimate satisfaction of having this man, Burnie Burns, turn into a helpless heap when he pounds him to oblivion. He admits it: he is very egotistical.)

He couldn’t ignore the water lapping down their bodies, of course; it makes him focused on the task on hand, with the amplified sounds it provides. Wet noisy kisses on Burnie’s hole, thrusting his tongue in, and Joel isn’t sure if he’s killing him with the noises he’s making. Nonetheless, they all sound the same in his head and it all screams is ‘more’. Besides, the bathroom has great acoustics, and with all the noise they’re making bouncing off the walls, he finds it pretty amazing how Burnie isn’t worshipping him.

Well, not yet.

When Burnie comes against the wall, he moans out Joel’s name again and again, like a prayer in naught. Joel finds himself extremely pleased that he carries Burnie over his shoulder (harder than it sounds) and plops him ungracefully on the bed, damping the sheets. Joel doesn’t seem to mind when he joins Burnie, lying facing him and closing his eyes.

“That’s it?” Burnie asks him, sounding extremely disappointed. Joel sniggers. “Ugh, god. I can’t even make you fuck me. What the fuck.”

But Joel is tired, mostly because of the whole “being with Burnie all day”, so lying in silence is absolute bliss to him, and he falls asleep almost immediately.

—

When he wakes up, his hands are tied up and there is a weird feeling in his hole, only to realize it is vibrating in an alarming rate and it is just there, prying him open. Burnie is sitting on a chair placed in front of the bed, watching with a grin that looks so familiar. It is the grin that results the brainchild of Burnie’s most evil pranks, and if Joel isn’t mistaken, he is in one.

“Good morning, sweet cheeks.”

“Why am I tied up?” Joel decides to ask, suddenly feeling discomfort from the toy in him. He is aware that Burnie just fucking lodged it up there without even finding his sweet spot, and that is just lazy. He growls. “You’re such an asshole.”

“Ah, but I’m not the one who gave somebody blue balls last night, so I don’t think I’m the asshole in this,” Burnie interjects, and if Joel has his hand free, he would’ve raised a finger. He watches as Burnie crawls his way near Joel and runs a finger down Joel’s neglected erection, which is against his belly, leaking precome. Huh. Joel manages to stop the moan from his throat, but when Burnie moves the vibrator in a different angle that rubbed against his prostate, he nearly screams, reflexively bucking his ass for more. “See? I’m such a generous guy.”

“Burnie, I swear to god, if you don’t fucking  _move_ —“

“Ah ah,” Burnie cuts him off with an open mouthed kiss, bruising and just too good, and Joel knows he’s in trouble. “But I tied you up for my consumption.”

Joel isn’t sure what to feel about it; unsure if it’s a threat or an impending prediction of what is to come. He should be scared, he thinks. But he is writhing and wanting nothing else but for the toy to  _move_ , because if anything, it is painful other than serving its actual purpose. Burnie looms closer with a tie in his hand, probably the one he used earlier that day, and proceeded to blindfold Joel, who almost bit him in the process.

“Easy,” Burnie warns, running his hands on Joel’s sides and cupping Joel’s ass, his fingers travelling down on his perineum, “I know you’re all bark  _and_  all bite, so no need to prove yourself, sweetcakes.”

“I hate you,” Joel tells him, but he leans into Burnie’s touches desperately and Burnie laughs at that. It’s weird, how his senses are heightened and Joel feels things tenfold, with the way Burnie runs a finger on the underside of Joel’s cock that was red and hard against his stomach. “I fucking hate you—“ his breath hitches upon direct contact of Burnie’s tongue on the head, swirling it around and smearing precome all over, running it across the vein. “You—“

“I wouldn’t want to  _gag_  you next, Joel.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, is that a challenge?”

So Joel shuts up. With his hands tied, there’s really not much he could do other than feel, and Burnie, being the asshole he is, is insistent on this fact. Burnie’s mouth is on his nipple now, teeth grazing and nibbling on it. In the middle of everything, Joel thinks of a way to protest about the whole thing, although begrudgingly, because he had to admit that Burnie is doing a good job so far. He decides not to make much noise of encouragement, trying to keep all moans and grunts suppressed.

The lack of sight scares him, slightly; Burnie leaves him in the middle of it all and Joel isn’t sure what he’s planning, but the shifting around the bed kept Joel grounded for the most part. He hears a bottle cap opening and a squelching sound against skin, then followed by an hitching of breath and a deliberate moan that comes from in front of him.

“Having fun without me?” Joel braves on, and Burnie answers with a shaky laugh.

“Not for long.”

It sounds like a deal more than anything, so when Burnie crawls all over his lap and finally moves the vibrator around, he sighs in relief and moans against Burnie’s neck, sucking there, wet and bruising. The arch of his cock is resting on the crack of Burnie’s ass, snug and perfect, and as Burnie rolls his hips, so does the vibrator in his hand and Joel is too focused on trying not to come. When Burnie pulls it out, though, he whines at the general lack of  _something_  but Burnie is pushing him down until he is lying down, and with a steady motion, he sinks into Joel slowly, the head going in excruciatingly slow.

As Burnie tries to get used to it, he plants kisses all over Joel’s chest, peppering it with bites and kisses that would mark his skin for a while, but Joel doesn’t mind at all. He likes that, actually; being called Burnie’s. It gives him a ground to stand on when he’s unsure how he exactly feels about him.

He thinks he’s messing around with Burnie, mostly, but the afterglow of their escapades gives Joel the warmest feeling in his chest, and with the way Burnie would lean in to catch his lips in a lazy kiss would make his stomach do somersaults, and he is pretty sure casual fucks don’t end that way.

“J-Joel,” Burnie breathes at his ear, nibbling the lobe and tonguing the shell, “Move. Please. Just, _god_ , fucking—“

When Joel thrusts up, Burnie meets him halfway and they form a steady rhythm, with Burnie writhing in pleasure and Joel kissing him bare and empty. What surprises Joel is when Burnie pulls off the restraints on his wrists, guiding Joel’s hands to his waist, whispering, “Fuck me so hard, Joel, please,” and Joel grins. He removes the blindfold from his head and decides to wrap it around Burnie’s cock, not too tight but not too loose.

“Don’t even dare come unless I say so,” Joel warns, and Burnie nods. He then eases out of Burnie and sits up to push Burnie down, dangling Burnie’s legs on his shoulder. “Gonna fuck you so hard,” he promises, and Burnie whines. “You want that?”

He doesn’t give Burnie time to answer when he thrusts it in, his cock brushing against Burnie’s prostate, and Joel starts drowning at the moans Burnie made. Impossibly so, he could feel his cock twitching even more, and it doesn’t take him long before he is mumbling against Burnie’s lips, “Gonna come, gonna fill you up.”

Reaching the edge, he pulls the constraint on Burnie’s cock and they come simultaneously, waves of pleasure overriding their senses, with Burnie moaning his name and his lips on Burnie’s temple, smiling at the fact.

When he pulls out of Burnie, there is come dribbling from his hole and he smirks; of all the things that he found sexy, this probably tops the list. Burnie grows conscious over the gaze and looks the other way, but Joel tips his chin to face him and they end up kissing again, Joel’s hands on either side of his head, his arms wrapped around Joel’s neck, pulling him closer.

It is Joel who cleans them up with a damp towel, Burnie only contributing in the form of sleepy giggles that just made Joel want to kiss him more. Upon finishing, he nuzzles Burnie’s hair and pulls him in an embrace.

“That was fun,” Burnie says, and Joel admires him for being able to start a conversation after sex. It has never been Joel’s forte to begin with, and Burnie knew that: Joel fucks, and Burnie talks. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Joel says back, but Burnie is smiling at him fondly and Joel is getting those butterflies again, so he says, “Burnie?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I love you.”

He knows he messed this up in ways he cannot salvage, but his worries vanish when Burnie turns into a bright shade of red and  _stutters_ , of all the things. “I—you—!”

Joel laughs, but it comes out forced because he is tired again. “Calm down, big guy.”

“I thought you knew,” Burnie mumbles as he traces the lines on Joel’s face. “I figured—“

“Yeah.”

Silence.

“I do too,” Burnie adds eventually, and Joel hits him lightly on the forehead with his own, before smiling his widest and falling asleep in Burnie’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well
> 
> you know me and endings
> 
> we don't really match

**Author's Note:**

> very slowly transferring things from tumblr so yea


End file.
